Chapter 20
Demons
Miasma and Coral moved forward through the inky darkness, shoulder to shoulder. Behind them hisses and shouts came from the dragon shaped demons, Desdemona, and the troops. The darkness made it difficult to judge distance. So each clash sounded like it was right behind them and they had to resist the urge to look over their shoulders. Ahead they heard indistinct noises; scrapes, shuffles, and voices. Seeming both far away and nearby at the same time.
“So what magic have you got against demons?” asked Coral.
“That's a good question”, said Miasma. They had had some discussions about demons in the Academy. But they hadn't even planned any expeditions to the demonic planes. Coral looked worried. “I don't think I've ever fought demons before. Except maybe that camel thing. We never did find out its true form. Greywind was convinced it was a demon.”
“Greywind thinks all camels are demonic”, said Coral.
Miasma laughed. “Well let’s start with general buffs for you. I can do Celerity, Fortitude, and Exactitude.” She muttered and hummed a few riffs and Coral felt energy course through him. “The demons come from the beyond, like the gods. So what we use against the heavenly forces might also work against them.” That was the theory anyway. If they crafted patterns inimical to those from other realms, then it shouldn't matter which realm as long as it wasn't this one.
“But they aren't gods”, asked Coral.
“No”, said Miasma. “They're a mixed bunch, which makes it worse. Many of the bigger ones started as escaped souls who carved out their own regions in the beyond. Not being in thrall to the gods, they set up their own hierarchies and did business with the gods. Mostly keeping and punishing souls that weren't in favor on behalf of the gods. After The Great Betrayal the gods swore off inter-pantheon warfare. At least directly. But they contract out to the demons to do odd retributive jobs against other gods.”
“So they are just your standard angelic being with a dark side”, said Coral.
“Many of the movers and shakers are”, said Miasma. “But we talked about it in metaphysics theory. The more physically powerful ones are some sort of amalgamated Soul. Your standard angelic being, as you put it, packs a certain punch based on the strength of their Soul. Demons don't like fair fights. So pack a bunch of Souls together in some sort of contorted symbiotic relationship, and you've got more punch than you would otherwise.”
“Great”, said Coral. The noises they had heard were louder now, though no more distinct. In the mix, however, was an intonation that Coral was sure she recognized: the Queen. “We're close”, he said. “Give me what you've got. I'm going to have to take my best guess in this darkness.”
“Well”, said Miasma. “Then let’s see if we can do something about that. I've got a pattern of sunlight here. Folklore says it's supposed to be detrimental to some of these things. That's just about all we have to go on here. Let me just apply it to a simple summoning...” With a few muttered phrases light shot upwards from Miasma's hands, exploding all over, pushing back the essence of darkness. They gasped at the sight.
Before them, in the circle of light, hulked an immense creature. Taken at a distance, it had the same shadowy nature as Desdemona's mount, and the faux-dragons they had passed. Spines, tentacles, cleavers, mandibles, and all sorts of appendages, mauls and limbs writhed in chaos. But at this scale, and with this illumination, it was clear that the blurred edges and smoky nature were not purely due to a lack of substance. This massive demon was composed of multiple creatures, co-located. Looking at it with a wide focus allowed one to dimly make out each of the natures. Some were openly attacking, others defending, and some seemed to be conversing.
In the light, its opponent could be seen as well. The Queen stood alone, in her ornate armor, sword drawn and ready. She kept in motion before the behemoth, faster and slower, blocking the occasional swipe or bludgeon from part of the creature. She kept up a running banter with it. The cadence was recognizable, although the words were lost.
Coral came to himself again, readied his shield and sword. He paused and looked over his shoulder at Miasma. “Let’s do this right.” He handed her back a horn. Miasma grinned. Jolly old Coral, she though. She brought the horn to her lips as Coral sprinted forward. She wrought a small glamour, a simple air summoning spell, pressed her hand to her chest, and blew a loud long peal from it, cutting through the gibbering whispers as her light had cut through the darkness. On and on the sound reverberated, as the spell relieved her from having to draw breath. In a sort of waterfall cascade, many aspects of the demon drew back, and rose to a height to take in the scene. The Queen ceased talking, and launched herself into a few offensive swipes and dashes. Coral raised his shield and voiced his own battle cry. Miasma cut the spell in dropped the horn. She'd done her heralding. As the sound died off, the echoes didn't seem to fade. They continued. It became clear that they were not echoes, but other horns. They blew the call of the 9th army. They were through the barrier and approaching!
Miasma rose up. It was time to keep the demon occupied while her army caught up to the fight. She sent a few searing bolts at the demon. Parts of it turned to notice, so she cloaked herself in darkness and created an apparition of herself. She had practiced this maneuver plenty in the field. Her doppelganger continued to hurl illusionary magics while she retreated from the scene, towards the horns of the 9th. In short order she came across them, formed up at the barrier. Desdemona stood, sword aloft, holding the barrier open. The last of the vanguard was through and added to the close packed shield wall. The few remaining demons worried the edges of the formation, but the soldiers were too disciplined to step out of line.
“This way!” she shouted, banishing the darkness around them. “For Coral and the Queen!” She sent another wave of light towards where the fight was.
“Advance!” cried the General. “For the Queen! For the 9th! We'll march to hell and back. Move out!” Miasma boosted herself up and over the shield wall, alighting near the General and the command unit. “Report!” ordered the general once everyone was moving.
“Certainly Alessa”, said Miasma, catching her breath. She was not military by nature. She found it hard to take the strict protocol seriously. But she was always respectful and most paid no mind to her minor breaches. “One major demon ahead. I didn't get a close look, but the Queen is up and able. Coral is engaging.”
General Alessa nodded, wearing a perpetually worried expression. “Good work”, she said. “How far?”
“Minutes at this pace”, said Miasma. “It's big though.” She tried to convey specifics with vague hand gestures.
“Close formation then. We're big too when we put our minds to it.” Miasma grinned and nodded in agreement. “We've lost several” continued Alessa, indicating a number of swords that floated along in sync with other soldiers. The standard issue sword was ensorcelled so that if its owner died, the soul was contained in it, instead of going to the beyond. It also animated, found the nearest other standard issue sword, and slaved itself to that one. So, as a unit lost members, its offensive capabilities were not as dramatically affected. Just the granularity with which it could apply them.
The swords also contained the basic patterns for weaving a new body patterned on the contained soul, and doing a short distance summon of most recent equipment. All Miasma had to do was tap into the strategic mana reserve and direct the power at each animated sword she saw. Within seconds the fallen soldier and equipment reappeared, took stock of the situation, and fell into step with their compatriots. Before its march was complete they were at full strength again.
As they drew within sight of the demon, General Alessa ordered another trumpeting from the standard bearer. Coral and the Queen stood, shoulder to shoulder, dodging and weaving as the demon desperately attacked. Their defense, both in prowess and in magic, was undaunted. The shield formation of the 9th closed in on it and their many swords swung and stabbed at the form as one, ignoring its shifting mu
ltitude. Alessa cried their advance, step by step, giving no ground.
Miasma took up station toward the rear of the unit. She kept the light up so that the troops could see to do their work. When aspects of the demon loomed overhead, she flung out barriers to shield the troops from above. Another aspect of the standard issue sword was that it had a fixed pattern that was easy to target with spells. She tried a range of enhancement from vitriol to searing. If demons were going to be on the future agenda, it was worth getting as much field information as she could.
Despite the demon's mass, size and horrific visage, the tables were clearly and quickly turning. With a multi-throated howl of rage and frustration, it began to give ground. Not letting an advantage slip past, the attack was pressed and the demon was quickly forced to nearly all defensive moves.
“It seems to have no stomach for a fair fight”, said Alessa to Miasma. She had returned to the command unit after running through her offensive repertoire. She now had something else in mind.
“That's what I'm afraid of”, Miasma said back. She had starting working an energy reservoir and sending quest spells to take patterns from the creature. Some motes floating near her started to blink brightly and rapidly. “I think it's about to abscond”, she said.
“Is that a problem?” asked Alessa, who looked hopeful.
“Do you really want to fight it again?” The air around it shifted and melted and the shadowy forms became more insubstantial. At this Miasma flung a binding spell with all the energy she had. A howling cacophony sounded as pieces of the creature disappeared, others parts became more solid, and chaos erupted. Shields were crushed under collapsing bodies and gouts of black ichor gushed over the battle field as the creature tore itself apart in a maelstrom of conflicting magical directives.
“Ewww. What a mess”, muttered Miasma, cringing.